Wounded
by snape'smistress-in-law
Summary: Though they look cool and collected at first glance, a closer look reveals that the House of Black is full of wounds.
1. Chapter 1: Regulus

**Wounded**

"_I killed my brother with malice in my heart. Hatred destroyed my family."_

- Coach Boone (Remember the Titans)

Ch. 1: Regulus

I've been hurt a lot, more times than I can count actually. I've cried an awful lot as well, because tears make me feel better. But I didn't cry the time I was hurt most; I threw a tantrum, I threw a lot of glass, but I didn't cry a single tear.

From the minute I was born, I was the younger and highly inferior brother. I think Sirius knew from the day he was born that he was an heir to a very important House. We would play various games in which he was the King or the Lord or the Black Heir and I was the peasant, or the obedient slave, or the younger brother. He was out snogging girls long before I grew out of the idea that storks brought babies.

Sirius was older and he knew that meant he was better; he loved to remind me of his superiority. He thrived on my ignorance and did his best to keep me young and ignorant, and of course Sirius' best was always good enough. But despite this, or maybe because of this-yes, it was definitely because of this-I loved Sirius. He was solid, something to lean on, someone to lead me, and besides he always told me the important stuff.

But when he went to Hogwarts things changed drastically. Maybe he forgot, or maybe he didn't think it was important, but he didn't tell me that our parents were wrong, so I didn't know. But he still told me some important stuff, I still had enough to get by on. He told me in my third year, "That stork isn't going to bring you a baby, Reg, you've gotta go out and get it." That was the last time he called me Reg.

When I was fourteen I was broken. Sirius was sixteen, a too mature boy who didn't know how to behave like an adult. I wouldn't have minded so much if he had tried to take me with him, even though I would have refused. But I would still have been okay if he didn't; it was the fact that he didn't say good-bye that broke me. He didn't even bother to say one word to the boy who had been his peasant, his obedient slave, his younger brother.

I've just barely been getting by since then. It's a good thing I'll be dying young, dying soon, because Sirius kept me young and I never got the chance to grow up. He kept me in the dark, a child, and a child I remain, wandering blindly through the dark passages hoping I don't bump into anything. I was always like that, but before he left Sirius had been my light, my guiding hand, my older brother.

**A/n: Tell me what you think please. Next comes Sirius' mother.**


	2. Chapter 2: Cassandra

**Wounded**

"_I killed my brother with malice in my heart. Hatred destroyed my family."_

- Coach Boone (Remember the Titans)

Ch.2: Cassandra

I used to be beautiful. I used to be the stunning Cassandra Whiteleather. When I was a little girl everyone would tell me how beautiful I was, how superior I was. They taught me how to be a proper lady so I could charm a proper pureblood man from a good family. Everyone in my family was delighted when I captured the heart of Castor Black-everyone but me.

I should have been married in a black dress when I was married into the Black family for it was the start of my chronic mourning. As it turned out, I had not captured the heart of Castor Black, for he had no heart. He thought of me only as a pretty woman to provide heirs for him, which I did. And it was one of those two boys that broke me.

My eldest son, Sirius, was my pride and joy. Sirius was everything I could want in a son-he was proud, headstrong, loyal, and cheerful. Regulus was my baby, but that's all he ever amounted to-a baby. But Sirius…I used to pretend I was happy when I was playing with him. So of course I tried to teach him to be a proper Black, like I was taught to be a proper Whiteleather. He was already half-way there, but to my despair he never learned the other half.

I believe, like everyone should, that purebloods are better than anyone else. I can't understand purebloods who don't believe that, they must be stupid, but people who hate me for my beliefs I really can't understand. I don't hate muggles, mudbloods, and blood traitors, I just have knowledge that I am above them.

I tried to explain that to Sirius, and though he didn't seem to fully understand, I was convinced for eleven years that he believed it all. Then he went to Hogwarts, was sorted into Gryffindor, and my world came crashing down. I cried myself to sleep that night, and the next morning I found a grey hair among my light brown curls.

But I pulled myself together, telling myself that this didn't make him a blood traitor, it was just a mistake. When he didn't come home for the holidays, I told myself that he had made nice, pureblood, Slytherin friends despite the Sorting Hat's mistake, that he had become popular like I knew my little boy would be. Well he was popular alright, but with all the wrong people.

I hung onto him as long as I could though. I lied to myself about him, did my best to change him, to keep him mine; it wasn't until he physically left me that I was broken. When my happy baby boy who did what he wanted, thought what he wanted, and wanted what I thought left me, everything left me. He took my heart with him and reduced me to something as cold and heartless as my husband, left with a son as lost as I was.

I used to have a heart. I used to love. I used to be beautiful.

**A/n: Next up-Bellatrix**


	3. Chapter 3: Bellatrix

**Wounded**

"_I killed my brother with malice in my heart. Hatred destroyed my family."_

- Coach Boone (Remember the Titans)

Ch. 3

I am loyal. When I find something or someone I believe in, I throw myself into it, give everything I have for it, including my life and the lives of the people I cherish. That's one of the reasons I always liked Sirius-he was always loyal too, and brave enough to be properly faithful.

Sirius and I were the only kids with life in our family; Narcissa was too romantic and delicate, Regulus was ignorant, and Andromeda was too taken up with "cute little Reggie and Cissy" to be much fun. But Sirius and I had imagination and energy and brains. When my sisters and I were at Black Manor or Sirius and his brother were at our house, we'd leave the children with Andromeda and played war games, mind games, games that would have sent our siblings' head's spinning.

In one of our games, Sirius bet his brother's life on the outcome of it. In the end, I not only had him pinned, but I also knew the location of everyone of his traps and flags, and he only had a handful of mine figured out. So he found Regulus, dragged him into the kitchen, took out a butcher knife, and held it up to his brother's throat. He had a moment's hesitation which saved Regulus, who had been screaming bloody murder and summoned Aunt Cassandra who berated Sirius for playing dangerous games. Everyone thought he had been kidding, but I saw the look in his eyes-he meant to do it. Very honorable.

But, like everyone else, I was shocked to find that the best Black the family had come out with in years was a blood traitor. He didn't have the most important thing it took to be a Black-the right thinking. As it turned out, he was Gryffindor slime and hung out with poor boys and mudbloods and part-human wretches. So I had to hate him-it was my duty.

Like the rest of my betrayed family, I looked to Regulus to take his brother's place, but Regulus was always too weak. He was too obedient-I didn't want someone who just did what I asked them too, I wanted someone with life, someone headstrong, but someone who wanted the same things done that I did. I was so positive that that was Sirius, but I was so obviously wrong.

So next I looked for promise in Cissy, but she was too soft. Snape had the brains and will, but he was a traitor. Rodolphus was adequate, but neither he nor his brother, Rabastan, had much brains. Barty Crouch was another promising person, but he died for our Lord. The Dark Lord was the only person who had the power, brains, and will, as well the right thinking, who lasted.

So now, twenty years since I began hating Sirius, I was in the Ministry of Magic. The Dark Lord had ordered me to get the Prophecy from Potter, and I would do whatever it took, not like the traitor who botched the job when the Prophecy was originally made.

In the Department of Mysteries, I stood facing my cousin. This time, it was no game, this time it was real. His laugh rang out like the bark of a loyal dog. He was mocking me.

"Come on, you can do better than that," he said. Well of course I could, I wasn't putting my all into it, because to me Sirius was still the clever boy who would have killed his brother for fairness. But he wasn't as good as the Dark Lord. I had only meant to stun him, let someone else do what they wished with him. I didn't know he was going to die, but it didn't really matter. I was loyal, and I had to sacrifice Sirius' life for the Dark Lord.

**A/n: Next up, my personal favorite: Sirius' father. **


	4. Chapter 4: Castor

Ch. 4: Castor

"_I killed my brother with malice in my heart. Hatred destroyed my family."_

- Coach Boone (Remember the Titans)

Castor Black was born a strong boy, the oldest of three boys. Alphard was the real baby, but he was in Ravenclaw, so Malcolm was treated as the baby, and given whatever he wanted. As the heir, castor should have been in charge, but it was really Malcolm who lorded over Black Manor. And of course Castor resented that.

Once, when he was eleven, Castor overheard a conversation between his parents that made it quite clear that they'd rather have Malcolm as the heir. This didn't hurt Castor's feeling's or anything sissy like that, it only made him very angry.

Roger Wilkes was Castor's best friend. When he got mad , he vented to Roger, so of course he mentioned his parents' conversation to him. Roger, who wasn't very fond of Malcolm himself, helped Castor formulate the perfect revenge. Obviously, Malcolm wasn't happy after a week's regimen of fine pranking from two of the cleverest boys of there time, Roger and Castor. And, being spoiled, pampered Malcolm, he had to have revenge.

So Malcolm went to his parents, not with the story of what the boys had done to him, knowing that wouldn't be enough, but with a story that would separate the two friends forever. His parents never asked questions when it came to Malcolm, because they relied solely on his tainted word, and cut off connection with the Wilkes' without a word of explanation or any other kind.

They had to explain to Castor, however, because he wasn't going to watch his friend walk out of his life forever and not know the reason. So his father summoned castor into his study and explained why they had abandoned the Wilkes, told him the story Malcolm had told. When Castor heard the atrocious lies Malcolm had told, he protested, calmly at first, sure he'd be believed, but when he wasn't he threw a tantrum. He had never done anything like that in his life, but in his desperation, Castor screamed and yelled like a three-year-old.

What Malcolm had told his parents to insure Roger would never be allowed near the House of Black was that Roger was in love with Castor. He told them that he saw Roger try to kiss Castor and that Castor had tried to laugh it off, but that roger and definitely meant it.

The night after his tantrum, Castor walked into his brother's room and looked at the sleeping boy who had ruined his friendship and, consequently, his life. It annoyed him that Malcolm looked almost innocent. "Avada Kedavra," he muttered. After a flash of green light, the only difference in the sleeping boy was that his heavy breathing had stopped.

In fear, panic, and a little bit of remorse, Castor ran to the bathroom to throw up. With his bile came all his emotions, his feelings. Straightening up and wiping his mouth, Castor walked out of that bathroom completely heartless.

**A/n: This was written in third person because Castor wouldn't tell anyone this story, not even himself really. Next up: Sirius.**


	5. Chapter 5: Sirius

**Wounded**

"_I killed my brother with malice in my heart. Hatred has destroyed my family."_

_-Coach Boone (Remember the Titans)_

Ch. 5: Sirius

I was a bit nervous, like everyone else on their first day of school, but I was a Black and I didn't let it show. I kissed my mother goodbye, bid farewell to my younger brother, and walked confidently onto the Hogwarts' Express. I was going to make my mother proud and I was going to shake that school up.

I had decided against sitting with my cousins because Ann and Cissy weren't much fun and Bella's friends were odd. Besides I wasn't afraid to find my own friends. So I found a compartment occupied by a skinny boy reading a book. He had freckles and light brown hair and when he looked up I could see his deep blue eyes. "Can I sit?" I asked.

"Sure," the boy said. "My name is Remus Lupin."

Lupin. Father blood traitor, mother mudblood. Not acceptable company. But I sat down anyway, maybe because his eyes looked so much friendlier than my father's or brother's. "Sirius Black," I said.

I could see my name register in his head like his had in mine and I could probably guess what he was thinking: Black. Pureblood and proud of it. Enemy. But he didn't kick me out, maybe because he was as friendly as his eyes. "Nice to meet you Sirius," was all he said.

"And you. What are you reading?"

"The Count of Monte Cristo," he said.

"Oh," I said, impressed. That was one big book, and having the attention span of about two seconds myself I would never be able to read it. But that didn't stop my mind from thinking: muggle book. "Do you know what house you'll be in?"

"My mum says I'll probably be in Ravenclaw like her, but almost everyone on my dad's side has been in Gryffindor so I don't know. And you?"

"I'll be in Slytherin," I said proudly. "_Everyone _in my family has been."

And I was so sure of myself. It really wasn't fair that I was born into the House of Black. I didn't belong there, I belonged with people like Remus. It wasn't _fair _that I had to feel guilty about being myself, I couldn't help who I was. And I couldn't and wouldn't change.

Remus read most of the way. When we got there I waited anxiously through the Sorting Hat's song, confused at why I should be so nervous. I was going to be in Slytherin and make my mother proud, wasn't I? Then I heard my name and put the hat on.

I was surprised by its suggestion. I won't tell you the exact words, even though everyone remembers them. But it told me I would do well in Gryffindor and I didn't protest except for some part of me that said: "but Gryffindor is the _enemy._"

And then I was the enemy. Remus too, and James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, who became my friends. Friends with the enemy. I didn't think I should feel guilty about abandoning my family for my friends, but sometimes I do. Sometimes I'm sorry I left them behind because they couldn't help being them more than I can help being me. I suppose it wasn't fair for any of us.

It wasn't easy being the enemy. Maybe Slytherins think that too…

But Slytherin _is _the enemy.

**A/n: That's Sirius for you: changes his mind but never his attitudes. He is so obviously a Black…next up is probably Cissy, but she's probably going to be difficult…**


End file.
